


Once upon a Time on Full Moon

by satonawall



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satonawall/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana’s evening is going badly and finding a wounded werewolf pup sure doesn’t make it any better. The morning after, though, is another thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once upon a Time on Full Moon

Santana pulled her coat tighter around herself. Whoever was responsible for vampire anatomy was a serious sadist; she was always cold from September all the way to April.  
  
From her left, from between the trees, there came a sound as if something was moving amongst the fallen leaves. She ignored it; she was a vampire, what could be worse than her that would be lurking there?  
  
As if to answer her question, a distant wolf howl rang around the forest.  
  
She wasn’t scared of werewolves. If it came down to a fight, she’d win, of course, so why would she be scared?  
  
Goddammit, the next time she forgot her ID at home when it was time to go to the blood bank she’d be taking the bus instead of taking the quick shortcut through the forest, even if the prices were sheer robbery.  
  
Like the universe felt that she needed some reinforcement to that decision, the next howl, probably a response to the first one, came from close by.  
  
So close by that Santana let her fangs grow in her mouth.  
  
The first response was followed by a second, from the same direction and maybe even from the same wolf.

Santana let go of her coat. She needed both hands ready to fight in case of confrontation.

Except that- The first howl, from far away, had sounded like someone announcing their presence or maybe domination over the territory, Santana didn’t know how werewolves operated. The subsequent ones, if she’d had to put it in human terms, she maybe would have gone with ‘ow’ more than anything.

The third sound just confirmed it. It sounded downright pitiful.

Santana continued walking, still alert but more relaxed.

Then, the bushes a few metres away from her swayed, too forcefully to be from the wind, and the next thing Santana new, a small ball of fur, maybe the size of a cocker spaniel, rolled onto the path in front of her.

She stopped and stared. It was limping when it began moving towards her, its left back paw obviously having suffered something, but its tongue was lolling out of its mouth and it looked excited like the world’s best-natured puppy. Santana tried to move away from it, but it reached her anyway, butting its head against Santana’s foot and looking up.

If it had been in its human form, it probably would have been grinning.

“Hush,” Santana said, moving her feet very slowly against its head to push it away. “Go away. Someone was howling at you, they’ll probably want you.”

The werewolf – puppy, okay, it was a puppy – yipped and butted its head against Santana’s leg again.

Santana stepped over it and continued on. If the puppy had actually been communicating with a full-grown werewolf, she wasn’t going to stay there to witness the reunion.

There was another yip, and as she looked back, the puppy was running after her, its limping leg barely touching the ground.

Oh god, it was a puppy, and if it was a puppy, somewhere inside its mind there was a scared kid who’d probably got lost in the woods and hurt their leg.

Santana sighed and kneeled down, catching the werewolf puppy from under its stomach and picking it up. It curled against Santana’s shirt, probably getting fur all over it, and hid its head under Santana’s coat.

“Your big bad wolf parents better not be on my tail to catch me and pick a fight for trying to help their kid,” Santana muttered to it, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to sound as annoyed as she wanted to feel.

Once she got home, she left the puppy in her terrace and closed the door firmly; however human the puppy was in its brain, it wasn’t tall enough to open it. She had only the basic first-aid supplies, and she’d never even entertained the idea of getting a dog so she knew next to nothing about caring for one’s wounds, but she couldn’t exactly take it to the vet so she did the best split she could.

“We’ll deal with that tomorrow when you’re back to human anatomy again,” Santana told the puppy, who yipped again and seemed to agree.

Santana let it in, and at least it followed her obediently upstairs. Santana led it to her ensuite bathroom, settled down a towel for it to sleep on and brought it one of those ghastly stuffed animals Rachel always gave her for her bite day gift for it to either cuddle with or to chew on.

“Don’t swallow any of it,” she said sternly, although going by the way the puppy butted heads with the bunny, cuddling seemed a lot more likely than chewing. “I’ll go to the blood bank now, and tomorrow we’ll see about finding your parents.”

The puppy let out a quiet, content noise and threw its paw over the stuffed bunny.

—-

There was a queue at the blood bank, so Santana wasn’t back until well after midnight. The puppy was exactly where she’d left it, sniffling against the bunny.

She allowed herself a smile. It was kind of cute.

—-

Santana didn’t really need to sleep, but since she could, why would she deprive herself of the pleasure of waking up and lying in bed, eyes closed and enjoying yourself, for half an hour before getting up?

Maybe, her brain supplied for her as she did in fact open her eyes and take in the open bathroom door, so that she could better look after a kid she’d brought to her house the previous night who was now, apparently, roaming free in Santana’s most definitely not-safe-for-kids house.

Well, at least vampires didn’t have any difficulties actually getting up in the morning and running down the stairs without falling down, seeing that they didn’t actually need the sleep anyway.

The house was mostly quiet, which was either good or very bad, but there was some rustling in the living room, so that was where Santana ran first.

There, in the middle of the living room between the couch and the dining table, stood an ironing board, and next to the board stood (on one foot, the other one purple with bruises or swelling or something) a blonde who most definitely was not a child.

Santana blinked just as the blonde looked up and gave her a bright smile.

“Good morning. I didn’t know that vampires slept in. I always thought they were just really efficient and spent the night training bats.”

Santana blinked again. “You’re ironing my shirts.”

She was wearing one, too, Santana noted absently, the way oversized flannel shirt she’d defiantly bought when someone had told her she didn’t look like a lesbian and then never actually worn.

“You were really nice to me last night,” the blonde said. “I thought I should be nice back. There are pancakes in the kitchen. I hope vampires eat pancakes, you had food so I thought so. If you don’t eat them, you can drink my blood, maybe that’ll get it out of my ankle.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Santana said, clutching on the only thing that made any sense. “We’ll need to get you to a hospital to look at that. And you shouldn’t be standing.”

The blonde smiled at her again, pulled the iron’s chord out of the socket and hopped into the kitchen, Santana in tow. On the table was a very nice-looking breakfast with pancakes, maple syrup and orange juice, plus a few fruits still a little wet from having been washed.

Santana allowed the blonde to sit her down and start eating like any of it was in any way normal, but by the time she was reaching for another pancake she could no longer help herself.

“Shouldn’t you be a child?” she asked. “I’m no expert on werewolves, but the wolf I brought home last night was definitely a puppy.”

“I’m a young wolf,” the blonde said, “but an old person. I was only bit a few months ago. Most wolves are born, so it gets a little confusing about the rest of us.”

Santana raised her eyebrow. “So you’re telling me that if you bit my grandmother, next full moon she’d just be like a new born baby?”

“If I bit your grandma,” the blonde said with a serious tone, “she would be very angry with me because adults are not supposed to bite each other. I wasn’t born a wolf so I can’t pass it on.”

Well, that was good to know. Vampires were probably immune to that anyway, but Santana really didn’t fancy finding out in a personal way.

“Well at least I won’t have to search for your parents,” Santana muttered and stuffed a piece of pancake into her mouth. “I’ll just get you to the ER to look at that ankle.”

“All of my papers are at home.” The blonde smiled at her. “And I don’t have any clothes.”

Santana looked away. She’d figured as much, what with the borrowing of her shirt, but she really didn’t need to be thinking about the fact that the attractive woman in front of her was naked save for one shirt right then.

“I’ll loan you some,” she said, “and then take you home to get your papers, and then to the ER, okay?”

The blonde nodded. “Thanks. You’re really nice. I’m Brittany.”

Santana allowed herself a smile. If she had had to stumble upon a werewolf, she was glad at least it was Brittany.

“Santana.”

—-

Three months later, when Santana woke up, kept her eyes closed and snuggled closer to the warm body in her bed, she amended that statement to being glad she’d stumbled upon Brittany full stop, no caveats.


End file.
